


Feather Light

by redboard



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics), Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: Case Fic, Comic Book Science, Gen, Shrinking, The Ultimate Tiny Tim Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:15:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22377787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redboard/pseuds/redboard
Summary: It seemed ironic to him now that after getting shrunken all his other problems suddenly appeared to be so little.
Relationships: Bart Allen & Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent & Cassie Sandsmark, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Tam Fox
Comments: 39
Kudos: 192





	1. Downward Movement

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a short one, it was written for fun. I’ve already finished most of it and will post it in parts. Hope you like it.

The newest collection of the Gotham Museum of Art left a lot to be desired, in Tim’s very honest and uneducated opinion. He’s never been much of the artistic type—that was Damian’s jurisdiction—Tim, he was a STEM kid, give him technology of any kind and he’ll be a happy camper.

Of course, if it were up to Tim he wouldn’t even be here in the first place, STEM or not. But, as majority shareholder of Wayne Enterprises, he was tasked to attend to various charities and events to set an example, so he didn’t have an option to start with.

He swore that as soon as Bruce gave the slightest hint that he wanted to take the reins back he would give them to him straightaway. Though he had a sneaking suspicion that whatever was stopping Bruce from doing so had less to do with his schedule and more to do with Lucius. Tim had made the mistake of being _too_ well behaved (in comparison), now the man didn’t want to let him go.

He sighed, looking at another drab painting of the Gotham skyline. The artist had taken so long that it had buildings in it that weren’t there by the time he had finished the whole thing.

“If you sigh any more your soul is going to exit your body through your mouth,” Tam remarked dryly at his side. 

He sighed again just to spite her, “It’s fine,” he said, “maybe this way I’ll at least free my soul from this torture even if my body has to stay behind.”

She snorted, “You're such a baby, grow up, it’s almost over.” 

“My _life_ is almost over.” He muttered, then glanced at her. 

Tam hadn’t looked up from her notepad, where she’d been scribbling the whole time they’d been here. To an outsider she would look like an assistant keeping extremely detailed notes, but to Tim’s trained eye—meaning he had peered over her shoulder half an hour ago out of curiosity—it was plainly obvious she was simply getting ahead on her college homework.

If Tim had been a tyrant he would have made her suffer through this together with him fully, but he was a benevolent boss and let her do her own thing. 

“You’re thinking something impertinent, aren’t you?” She asked, stuffing the notepad on the inner pocket of her jacket.

“Why ever would you think that?” He said, turning his head this way and that, suddenly extremely entranced by a tiny sculpture of a gargoyle. It was very detailed.

“You have that look about you.”

“What look?” He said, turning to her and looking up from under his eyelashes.

“Yep, you got it, that’s the one.”

He was going to deny any wrongdoing in his sweetest voice when a man wearing a tuxedo opened the double doors at the middle of the exhibit and announced “Ladies and Gentlemen, we ask you to enter and take your seats, the auction will start shortly.”

“That’s our cue,” Tam said, making a beeline for the seats. She probably didn’t want to get caught up in any conversations as much as Tim did (which was not at all) leaving him to catch up after her.

They sat quietly as the room started to slowly fill up and Tim did his best effort not to bounce his leg. The lights were dim, so it was hard to make out faces. It was the sort of setup where people got killed, but Gotham never learned. 

The auctioneer—the tux man from before— was now standing up front, with everyone already properly seated.

“Thank you for attending the auction for the Gotham Skyline charity, as you know, all proceeds will go to funds to rebuild lower income areas still affected by the earthquake,” there was a pause for applause. “Now the first lot tonight is a painting donated by the artist Marc Hatfield, valued at one hundred and twenty thousand dollars, the bid will start at thirty thousand,”

Tim let the voice of the auctioneer slowly fade out. Now that he was sitting, he couldn’t help letting his mind wander to other _more important_ things.

He had to check in with the Teen Titans, for one. He’s been putting it off with everything he’d been juggling and Kon and Cassies texts were starting to get a concerned vibe to them. He could tell that if he stalled any longer they would burst into his apartment and it was currently in no state to receive any guests.

Another pressing thing was backing up the Nest’s servers to the Batcave. That one had been on the back burner for a while because while he didn’t want to lose his case reports he also didn’t want to spend however many hours it took to process all that information without being able to use his computer.

Because, and here came pressing task number three, he’d been working on a strange series of disappearances and he was becoming extremely worried with the lack of leads. He knew they had to be connected somehow, he just couldn’t see it. Not even outsourcing to Oracle had been much help. The information on some of the missing people was sometimes as big as a post it note.

A slap on his knee brought him back to the present with a jolt, and Tam was glaring at him. “If you’re _bored_ I suggest you use _this_ ,” she held up his right hand, which was grasping a paddle with a 68 stenciled on it, “and at least _try_ to participate, win something.”

Tim mumbled his apologies and looked back to the front, where the auctioneer was now presenting what looked like a miniature replica of Gotham City Park and its surrounding buildings. He grimaced, he had absolutely no use for any of these things but maybe he could use it to dramatically loom over it like he was sure Lex Luthor did when he looked out towards Metropolis.

Resigned, he raised his paddle and the auctioneer perked up, “Fifty thousand over here, can I have fifty five?” He asked, and someone off to the side raised their own paddle, “Fifty five, let’s go for sixty anyone for sixty?” 

Tim glanced at Tam and she held his gaze. He sighed, he didn’t have the energy for these kinds of games so he raised his voice as well as his paddle, “One hundred thousand!” That should do the trick.

“One hundred thousand!” The auctioneer repeated without hesitation, but before he could offer a higher bid someone else raised their paddle. A man stood up, “Hundred and fifty,” he announced calmly.

Tim raised his eyebrows at the proclamation and looked at the tiny replica again. Surely it wasn’t worth this much fight, what kind of person even wants this so badly. But now he was curious, and there was only one way to sate his curiosity.

Despite Tams wide eyes, Tim stood up, fixing a button in his jacket and raised his paddle, “Three hundred.” He raised an eyebrow at the other man.

The guy had turned to look at him in shock and Tim smiled with a challenge even though, back in her seat, Tam was tugging at his pant leg to make him sit back down.

The auctioneer meanwhile was getting really into it, “Three hundred thousand dollars for ‘Little Gotham’,” Tim winced at the name, “can we get more? Three fifty? Who says Three fifty?”

Tim was aware that all eyes were on them right now, him and this stranger across the room. Somehow in the dim light they had locked eyes and the man wasn’t having as much fun as Tim was pretending to have.

The man shot his arm up and without breaking eye contact he said “Five hundred.”

Tim gave a low whistle, that was an insane amount of money for a dumb piece of art, so he figured he’d let him have it. He nodded his head slightly, conceding his loss, and sat back down. The tension left the man’s shoulders as the auctioneer said “Gone for five hundred thousand for the gentleman here! Next,”

As soon as he sat Tam slumped on her seat slightly, “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“You’re the one who told me to bid,” he said, hiding his grin behind the paddle.

Tam groaned, massaging her temples. “Yeah, I forgot not only you’re crazy rich, you’re _crazy_ crazy.”

Tim chuckled, then nodded in the direction of the other man, who had by now already sat back down and out of view, lost in a sea of bodies.“What kind of person do you think he is?”

“The nut job from before? Your soulmate probably.”

“Har har.”

The rest of the auction continued without issues, and by the end of it Tim saw himself as the proud owner of a large oil painting, which Tam was pleased hadn’t cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. 

Tim was also somewhat satisfied with his purchase. It was a painting of Gotham’s murky, dark sky, with a single point of light showing through behind many floating blimps. It was the best depiction of the bat signal he had ever seen, and he wouldn’t have minded getting into another bid war for it but apparently there were no avid Batman fans in attendance tonight. Pity.

Still, he couldn’t wait to have it delivered to the Theater. He didn’t get many visitors there but he found it very a very funny place to display it, considering what hid below the old Monarch.

They were waiting at the entrance of the Museum, waiting for the valet to retrieve his car when a man with a thunderous look in his eyes approached them. Tim recognized him almost immediately.

It seemed like he wanted to argue about something, so Tim intercepted his anger before it exploded in his face with a polite outstretched hand. “Hi! You’re the guy who won the Little Gotham aren’t you?” He said, loudly enough to attract not only the attention of Tam, who was back in her notes, but also that of the security guard close by.

“Yes.” The man considered him for a moment and shook his hand. It was a strong shake, but with something to prove. “Richard Hemming,” he said gruffly. 

“Oh, I have a brother with that name. I’m Tim Wayne,” _Drake_ -Wayne, but not when he was trying to flex. And apparently it had done its job, the man’s eyes were as wide as they could go. Tim retrieved his hand, “I’ll say, when I saw your tenacity I just had to let it go, the model that is.”

Hemming rubbed the back of his neck, “Now knowing what I know I realize I wouldn’t have been able to outbid you if you had really wanted.”

“Well, I presume it is in good hands now, seeing how much you care about it.”

“I do,” he said firmly. Then, after giving it some thought he opened his briefcase and handed Tim a card. “If you’d like Mr. Wayne, you can come see it whenever you like. It’ll be joining my collection soon.”

Tim took the card, “Oh, a collectionist, are you?” 

“Of-Of sorts.”

“Tim,” Tam whispered at his side.

“Ah, it seems my ride is here. I’ll be seeing you around, Mr. Hemming,” he said, raising the business card slightly.

He tipped the valet and got in the car. As soon as the copilots side door had closed Tam turned to him. “What was that?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? You’re scheming! That was you playing detective.”

Tim gave her an incredulous look, “That was me being _curious_ Tam, I’m allowed.”

“Well, the way you do it is very creepy. Did you realize your voice goes down an octave when you’re ‘ _curious_ ’?” She said, making air quotes.

“I can’t hear myself so, no.”

“You do.”

“Is it hot though?” That earned him a smack on the arm. “Ow!” he laughed.

Tim dropped Tam off at her apartment, which she shared with a couple of girls. She had invited him in for pizza and hgtv as she usually did whenever she had the opportunity, which always led them to have the same argument every time.

“I just don’t wanna be the odd man out, Tam. They’re your college friends,” he’d say.

“If it’s our age that’s the problem then let me remind you that _you_ should be in college too,” she’d reply.

He’d deflect by saying, “But I’m not, I wouldn’t know what to talk about. And anyways, I’m busy with other stuff.”

“But not the _right_ stuff,” she’d grumble.

“What I do is necessary,” he’d say, getting defensive.

And then she, being the less stubborn of the two, would finally relent. They would part ways with “Be careful.” and “I’ll see you Monday.”

That’s usually how it went and this time wasn’t any different.

When he returned home he wasn’t even going to pretend to go through the front door. Instead, he entered an out of service garage a few blocks away from the Theater. The garage spiraled down for a while until it hit a dead end. He hit a button in his key and the wall slid open, closing behind him as he entered The Nest.

He changed from his civvies to his uniform in no time, and as he passed by the computer he considered calling his friends. That thought was disrupted by an oncoming call that answered itself.

“Red Robin.”

“Oracle, I feel like your abuse of power is doing a number on your manners,” he said as a way of greeting, settling himself on his chair.

“I rather not give you the opportunity to pass me on to the answering machine.”

“That was one time,” he said, swiveling in his chair.

“It was definitely more than once, I don’t forget things, and I certainly don’t forgive.”

He rolled his eyes, knowing that even though he couldn’t see her, she could see him, in 4K.

“Then, why are you calling?”

“I found a match for your case,” he perked up, sitting straight, “be thankful, I had to wade through _actual paper_ to get this intel.”

“I owe you one.”

“You owe me several. Still, it’s not much so don’t get your hopes up.”

“That's alright, hit me.”

“These three people,” a scan of the photographs their families had provided appeared on his screen, “all used to live at the same address.” A map opened up, showing the exact location, it seemed to be an apartment building in lower Gotham. “These two as well.” Two more photos appeared, together with another dot on the map away from the first but around the same area.

“This is huge, O!” He started to mentally map the fastest route to the closest location.

“Hold your horses, I said they used to live there.” Another two screens opened, both were security camera footage of an empty lot. “The buildings are gone,” two more windows, both almost identical as they read ‘Demolition Notice!’ in bold letters.

“Damn it.” He steadied himself with his desk, trying to think. The one lead he hadn’t even known he had just a second ago, the places where these people were probably taken and all the clues they might have left behind, had completely crumbled into nothing together with the building. He only had half a mind to address Oracle “Thanks O, this was a big help.”

“Sorry I couldn’t do more, if you want, I can keep my eye out in the area.”

“No, it’s alright, I’ll take it from here. I’ll let you know if I need any help.”

“Make sure you do.” After a pause she said “And, you know the rest would be willing to help you out too.”

He waved her off, “This case isn’t big enough for that, but I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Alright, Oracle out.”

He slumped in his seat and idly organized the windows. He could still go to the empty lots where the buildings used to be, but the chances of actually finding something were extremely small. These people probably moved weeks before and they just didn’t tell anyone what their new addresses were. But five people were already too much of a coincidence.

Even though the evidence might be gone, the fact that both buildings were demolished was a huge lead that he wasn’t about to ignore. Maybe whoever did this targeted these locations specifically because they were going down. It would be a smart move, considering how much trouble it was currently causing him.

He expanded one of the demolition notices. It was all in order, it didn’t seem like they had sprung this up by surprise. He expanded the second one and found the same thing. Even, in fact, the contractor responsible for the demolition.

H&H was the logo, and there was something about it that niggled at his mind. He’d seen this before. Suddenly, he stood up and ran towards his changing area. He found his discarded clothes from earlier today and rummaged through his jacket pocket. There, he fished out a business card.

‘Richard Hemming. CEO of H&H.’

“Well, Mr. Hemming, it seems like I’ll be looking through your collection sooner than I thought.”

He could hack through his servers remotely, but he really needed to get started with his system backup. Besides, he didn’t want to take his chances and miss any physical evidence that might help. It was a good starting point, if any.

After starting the backup sequence he hopped on a motorcycle and ripped out of the lair the same way he’d come in.


	2. How to Disappear Almost Completely

It turned out that Hemming & Hemming (which was apparently what H&H stood for) wasn’t that far away from Wayne Enterprises, though they weren’t exactly neighbors. It was a ten stories tall building, with Richard’s office at the very top of it. This was very convenient for anyone using the grapple entrance, which is what vigilantes called the roof access door in the business.

Once inside it wasn't hard to confirm he was in the right place. Tim would have whistled at the sight if he hadn’t been trying to keep quiet. Richard had downplayed the ‘collectionist’ thing.

Before Tim were various glass cases, each displaying different miniature models of Gotham, in different time periods and states. There was even one that looked like how Gotham had ended up after the huge earthquake. Tim shook his head, he found it a bit distasteful. Then again, Batman kept a case with an old suit in it. Maybe he’d become desensitized to that one in particular.

Ignoring the many little Gothams (there was even one made with LEGOs!) Tim headed for the computer. He started it up and while he waited he opened the file cabinet behind the desk.

He barely made it to the letter C when someone patched through his communicator. 

“Hey Red!” a cheerful voice greeted.

“Batman,” He acknowledged, still rifling through the files. He knew something like this would happen. Whenever Oracle mentioned ‘collaborating with the family’ it translated to ‘heads up, they’re coming for you and I won’t stop them so don’t even ask’.

“Heard you got a difficult case on your hands, anything Robin and I can help you with?”

“Don’t talk on my behalf,” Robin said, apparently also in the conversation. 

Tim snorted, “No, I have it handled.”

“If no leads is what you call handled then I don’t want to know what out of control looks like for you.”

“Robin,” Batman chided. In the corner of his eye Tim noticed the computer had finally booted up, so he sat in the chair and started opening folders. “What he means is, if you need a hand, we're happy to help.”

“I don’t think that’s what he meant.” Tim said, momentarily distracted by a photo next to the computer, where a woman was smiling next to Richard. There was a striking resemblance between them, though she looked younger.

“I hate to agree with Red Robin.” 

“Then please don’t do it again, for both our sakes.” Robins words making him focus back to the task at hand. Dick made a displeased noise at the other side of the line. “Listen, I’ve got this. I’m actually checking out a lead right now, but it’s pretty tedious work.” 

“What are you doing?”

“Reading hundreds of files.”

“Ugh,” the first Robin had never been very fond of paperwork.

Tim, on the other hand, had just found the list of open contracts and it listed the next building up for demolition, due the next week. “If I need backup I’ll let you know, but I can handle this.

There was a moment of hesitation before the other man said, “Alright. Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay, I’ll see you around then.” The line went dead.

After deactivating his own comm, he turned off the computer and left everything in its proper place. He slipped back out of the building and grappled away, he could make it to his destination without needing his bike.

The building in question was nothing much. The facade was cracked and it looked like it might come down on its own. There were still a few people in the apartments, judging by the lights he could see from his perch on an adjacent building.

Tim made a quick sweep around the premises with his binoculars, taking in any details that might be interesting, but it was difficult when he didn’t know what that might be.

He didn’t need to worry about it too much as, across the street a suspicious figure was approaching the building. They were wearing a black trench coat and a hat, which was very inconspicuous by Gotham standards. What wasn’t discreet was the large contraption strapped to his back and the large gun that seemed to connect to it.

He felt his muscles tense but he couldn’t jump in just yet. If it were a regular gun he wouldn’t worry about it, but with this particular type he needed to be careful. It changed completely the context in which the people had gone missing and might be the key to getting them back, if possible.

So, he had to wait. But first, “Batman.”

“Red Robin! That was fast.”

“I have a suspect on sight, lock on my location. They’re armed, wait—” 

“Red? What’s going on?”

“He’s doing something.”

The man indeed was doing something. He’d raised the gun, which looked heavy judging by the unsteady stance the man had. He aimed it straight to the building and in the blink of an eye, the entire structure had disappeared.

“It’s gone…”

“What’s gone?” Batman was asking, his breath labored with exertion, he was probably rushing towards him.

But Tim didn’t have time to wait for them, he couldn’t let this guy escape. 

He dived off his perch in the roof and grappled down, falling silently right in front of the man.

“Somehow I don’t think you have a license for this,” Tim said, kicking the gun part off the man’s hands, which, since it was still connected to the contraption on his back, didn’t fly very far.

The man stood still, shocked by the arrival of the vigilante and Tim, seeing the man’s face, was equally shocked. It was Richard, from earlier.

Richard took advantage of Tim’s lapse and decked him in the face, though the surprise made him reel more than the strength of the hit.

When he composed himself enough he realized Richard was reaching for his gun. Weighing his options in a split second, Tim attempted to jump for cover, but as he was diving he felt a thunderous crack on his back. All his muscles were suddenly on fire. He toppled to the ground, the excruciating pain causing him to lose consciousness.

We woke up a few moments later, with his head pounding he stood on unsteady feet. He shook his head, trying to get rid of the noise filling his ears before he realized it was coming from his comm. He quickly took it out and pocketed it.

His vision was still spotty when he looked around, there was something… weird, going on. Something had happened to the street.

Everything looked much farther away, stretched, in a way. Like the buildings were somehow larger than they should be. He glanced towards the sidewalk and he was shocked to see a giant rat, peering out of a storm drain.

No wait.

A giant rat wouldn’t fit in a storm drain.

“Oh, crud.” He said, his mind finally catching up. He’d somehow been shrunken. It was either that or everything else got bigger. “Well, this explains a lot of things.” 

He jogged to the sidewalk and climbed it up. “Yep, this isn’t going to get annoying soon.” He looked in the direction of the ‘demolished’ building. There was no sign of Richard anywhere. The evil Richard that is. Because in the distance he could see two figures land gracefully onto the empty lot. Batman and Robin.

He thought of calling out for them but threw that idea away immediately. There was no chance they would hear him. He’d had to at least get closer, but there was no way he’d make it to them running and his grapple wasn’t much help.

On the corner of his eye he saw the rat, eyeing him curiously.

Tim sighed, and took out his grapple gun. “I hope you’re clean.”

The rat simply squeaked in response, his beady eyes looking attentively.

Tim approached the rat carefully while detaching the hook of the grapple. “Come, rat rat rat. Pspspsps… I don’t know what sounds people make to attract rats.” He tried whistling.

The rat approached him tentatively, and when it did Tim pounced on it, slipping the grapple wire into its open mouth as it tried to screech.

The rat bucked spastically as Tim adjusted his grip on the makeshift reins, until finally he gained control of the rat. “This isn’t the weirdest thing that’s happened to me but it’s definitely up there,” he said, using the grapple to direct the course of the rat.

Almost in no time he had arrived to the edge of the lot where the building once stood. “Batman!” He yelled, though he was still a bit far away. “Batman! Over here!”

Tim always thought Batman was a symbol larger than life, but actually seeing it with his very own eyes was extremely bizarre. Not only that but he seemed to be moving sluggishly, not exactly slow, but every movement seemed a bit more deliberate.

Dick was pacing, probably getting worried that he wasn’t where he said he would be. He thought of the busted comm in his pocket. That probably didn’t help.

Damian on the other hand was standing still, his arms crossed, the only reason Tim didn’t think he was a statue was his head, which was moving as he followed Batman’s every move.

“Batman! Robin! Down here!” He flapped his arms trying to get their attention. He was almost there, if he could just get close enough…

At that moment, Dick pulled something out of his belt. “No! Wait!” It was too late, they were shooting their grapples. “Wait! I’m right here!” Tim yelled, forcing the rat to somehow get there faster. “I’m right here!” He tried, as loud as his voice could get, but they were gone, Tim and his rat now standing where Batman and Robin had stood not a second ago. “I here...” he sighed, “Damn it.”

The rat was rubbing at its muzzle, trying to take the wire off with it’s weird rat hands. Tim scratches the head of the rat to try and appease it. “Sorry, bud. Looks like we’ll be hanging out a while longer.”

The rat bent it’s head slightly to look at him with it’s shiny eyes.

Tim searched through his pockets and found a few cereal bars. He supposed now they weren’t bigger than peanuts but it’s what he had. “Here,” he said unwrapping one and showing it to the rat, “for your troubles.”

The rat sniffed the bar curiously and it opened its mouth, it’s long teeth just shy from catching Tim’s entire hand between them. “Wo-ohkay then,” Tim said, shaking his hand. “That was horrifying, let’s not do it again.”

The rat squeaked contentedly.

“Let’s go,” he said, lightly pulling on the reins to set the rat back in motion. “I don’t want to be spotted like this by civilians. Why am I talking to you? You’re a rat.” The rat obviously didn’t respond.

He led the rat to the closest storm drain and hunched forward as they went in. At least he was big enough to warrant it. The the rat skittered over tubes and dirt. “God, the smell is somehow worse,” he said, pulling out his rebreather and putting it on.

He was truly in a pickle right now, he thought, holding tight onto the rats brittle fur. He couldn’t think of a way to solve this. The only thing that came to mind was Richards gun, it probably had a way to return him to his original size, or at least, if they knew what it did they could try to reverse engineer it.

Speaking of Richard, just how does a contractor get his hands on such a dangerous machine? And why? 

He thought about Little Gotham and could only imagine the worst.

His eyes widened. What if the buildings had been right there in the open, like a tree in a forest? Shrunken down and put on display with the rest of the models. But then, what about the people? There hadn’t been any that he recalled. Surely he would have noticed a bunch of rat sized Gothamites knocking on glass.

But then again, Dick has completely missed him. Though these were completely different situations.

For now though he focused on getting home. He would never be able to get to the Manor via rat, but at least he should be able to make it to the Nest using the sewers. 

“When we get there I’ll give you a tasty treat,” he said, patting the rats head. “I should really stop talking to you.”

Distracted as he was, he still didn’t miss the strange bubbling sound coming from somewhere behind them. He turned slightly, keeping his grip tight on the rats fur and squinted.

A pair of golden beads shone in the darkness, a dark slit cutting across each of them. Tim only had enough time between realizing what they were and somehow managing to jerk the rat away as Killer Croc burst out of the dank sewer water and lunged towards them. His jaw snapped shut loudly as he bit into nothing, but he didn’t look very deterred. He kept pouncing in their direction, teeth snapping just inches away from Tim’s head.

Thankfully the rat was a bit faster than Croc, but Tim wasn’t sure how long that would last.

Thinking quickly he detached the head of the grapple and retrieved the wire into the gun, hoping that the rats own sense of self preservation would keep them on track. He reassembled the grapple and waited until Croc snapped his jaw again to leap onto his snout. 

He held on for dear life onto one of the scales as Croc shook his head trying to get him off. He doubted that Waylon could even see him as he was in his blind spot but he probably could feel him. But that was no problem, he wasn’t planning on staying too long.

He jabbed the grapple hook onto a scale and made sure it was secure. Then, without letting himself think about it for too long, he pushed off backwards and let himself fall. At the same time he activated the release of the grapple, making the line zip as it unfurled itself with the pull of gravity. With another push of a button the line went taut, the momentum swinging him under the metahuman’s jaw, all around to the starting point.

Before Waylon could react he repeated the move a few times, managing to secure the Crocs jaw shut, if only temporarily. 

If Killer Croc had seemed mad before, now he was absolutely incensed. He was using his claws to paw at the wire, not caring that he was scratching his own skin, his face getting bloodied. Tim knew the wire wouldn’t last very long so he had to act fast.

Back on the snout and dodging the swiping mutated paws, Tim approached the monsters nostrils and grimaced. He very much didn’t want to do this, but no one had to know about it. 

He pulled out two tear gas canisters and a smoke bomb for good measure and jabbed his hand into the nostril as far as it could go. Tim wasn’t going to stay around to see if his plan worked. He let go of the snout and opened up his cape to control his landing.

Right as he was doing so, smoke started to pour out of Crocs nose and the man-croc went still for just a second before he started sneezing, or at least tried to. The wire, preventing him from opening his jaw made him unable to properly release, each aborted sneeze becoming more forceful. Until finally Croc gave a strong enough jerk to hit the back of his head with the wall. He swayed for a moment before falling face first back into the water.

“Geez. Let’s never do that again,” Tim said, wiping his hand on the wall before remembering that oh yeah, he’s in the sewers.

There was no much sense in retrieving the grapple as he was pretty sure it had burst, but he was short in supplies in his current state. He went over to the unconscious meta floating in gunk water and gathered up the pieces.

He considered the meta for a moment. He hadn’t even known Croc was out of Arkham, no wonder though, his new found taste for rat meat was probably one of the reasons he hadn’t gone on a rampage trying to eat people. Still, that was no way to live. When he returned back to normal he’d make sure Waylon got some proper food, in jail that is.


	3. Stop Measuring Your Height With Mine (We Already Know Who’s Bigger Anyways)

Once back on the drier side of the tunnel, away from the flowing sewage, he continued to walk towards the general direction of the Nest. He had only walked for a few minutes when he found a familiar creature twitching its nose at him.

“What, you waited for me?” Tim asked the rat, genuinely surprised. “Or are you a different rat?” The rat, unable to understand his words brushed its paws over its nose, chirping without a care in the world. “You know what, we’re just going to pretend you’re the same rat as before. I don’t want to think I communed with two whole different rodents today.” 

Tim took out another cereal bar and offered it to the rat, who delightfully took it. He pet the animals head as it chewed. “Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good, disease-ridden boy,” he cooed, scratching the back of the rats ear before mounting it. “Alright, we better get going. We don’t wanna be here when the big guy wakes up.”

The rest of the trek continued without many issues. Sometimes they ended up having to backtrack as distances felt a lot different when you’re suddenly 4 inches tall. But other than that it was as easy as morning commute, if you were used to commuting on horseback.

Still, they reached the unmistakable tunnel that lead to one of the Nests secret entrances. Bypassing his own security was a piece of cake, since he had never planned to keep out little fairy sized people. That was something he was going to fix after all this was over.

Once in the Nests garage area he thought about dismounting the rat and setting it free, but he didn’t know if he’d need (relatively) fast transportation to move around later. Getting a hold of random rats was actually pretty uncommon in the Nest, he’s not sure he’d ever seen one since he cleaned out the place, funnily enough.

In the end he decided to loosely tie a shoelace around the rats neck and tie the other end to one of the motorbikes. If it chewed through it and escaped then it wasn’t meant to be. 

For good measure though he retrieved a full sized cereal bar from his civilian clothes from earlier and dragged it all the way back to the rat. 

“Deals a deal,” he said and watched for a moment as the rat went to town on the snack bar. It was kind of endearing if not slightly terrifying to look at, considering these teeth could probably cut him into pieces.

As much as he was grateful for the rats help (an oddly loyal creature, he found) he didn’t think he could tackle this kind of problem on his own as much as he wanted to. 

Firstly he needed to let Dick know he was alright, or alright-ish. He’d seemed worried, but it was hard to tell from an extreme low angle. Next he needed inform Barbara about the culprits identity and method, he might need someone to seize that gun for him.

So, he returned to the locker area and looked through his other pant pocket, where he usually kept his phone. With some work he managed to pull it out. He pressed the Home button, noticing his hand was just slightly larger than it, and the screen lit up.

Immediately he noticed the crazy amount of notifications. Several calls and messages, not only from Dick but also Barbara, Alfred and surprisingly enough, Cassie. That’s when he ran into a new hurdle, getting past the touch identification lock of his phone, which, granted, sounded more dramatic than it was, but still a pretty big deal.

“This is getting really exhausting.” He said to no one in particular. “Great, first the rat, now I’m talking to myself. That’s fantastic.” 

As he was busy complaining about how difficult his life was, his phone vibrated. Dick again. Tim sprung into action and touched the Accept Call button with both hands.

“Hello? Hello! Tim!” Dick said, apparently caught by surprise by his call getting answered.

“Dick!” Tim said into the mic, “I’m fine! Actually, you won’t believe—” he began to explain, but Dick didn’t wait for him to finish.

“Hello? Tim? Are you there?”

“I’m here,”  _ again.  _ “Can you hear me?” he asked, a pit of worry growing in his belly.

“Tim? Is anyone there? I don’t know, his phone accepted the call but he’s not saying anything.” Dick said, clearly talking to someone else.

“Dick!” He tried at the top of his lungs. No dice.

“I know, maybe he’s in trouble… Robin, come on.” The call went dead.

“God damn it, Dick,” he banged his head on the screen of the phone out of frustration. “This must be some kind of sick joke,” he sighed.

Well, if Dick was smart (which somehow he was starting to doubt) he would track Tim’s phone and come over. He didn’t know how to feel about having him over, but now wasn’t the time for grudges. 

Still, it wasn’t time to be idle either. He hopped off the bench and exited the locker. Jogging past the garage he noticed the rat had fallen asleep in a nest of cereal crumbs. It was truly a well behaved rat.

He reached his work station and climbed up his seat. He was starting to get tired, he hadn’t done this much climbing since he journeyed around the world to find proof that Bruce was alive. 

With some effort he jumped the gap between the chair’s arm rests and the desk, almost missing the mark. He hoisted himself up and hugged the mouse to push it around. His computer roused from sleep mode and Tim groaned almost instantly.

The screen read ‘Backup Progress: 70%’.

Computers were his thing. He was the computer guy. Babs was the computer woman and he was the computer guy, this was common knowledge. So how was it possible that all his tech was suddenly failing him at his most dire time of need. “Is nothing easy?” He grumbled, tapping his foot with irritation.

He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. Not all was lost. If he remembered correctly, he had left his laptop in the living room—the only place in the hideout with a comfortable couch, where he went to lick his wounds after particularly nasty nights.

He glanced towards it, a blanket was dangling off the side of the couch and he could kind of see the corner of the laptop. Though, more importantly, he could see the glaring distance between where he was and where he needed to go. Just the sight of it made his legs ache. But he needed to get a hold of Barbara.

Funny how when he needs help the most it’s suddenly out of reach. Story of his life.

He was weighing the pros and cons of getting off his ass and going to the laptop—he had to do it anyways, he just loved to pretend like he had options—when a gust of wind swept through the Nest. The force of it would have almost sent him flying off the table if he hadn’t grabbed the mouse cord at the last minute. 

It was then obvious that the gust of wind wasn’t just a pesky draft but a person he was incredibly familiar with, he realized, as he watched Bart zip around the Nest, looking under cupboards and behind furniture.

He stopped running around and saluted towards the spiral stairs. “No sign of him, sir!”

“Hmm, maybe he’s out?” That was Cassie's voice, though it was distorted, the same way Dicks had been. She was coming down the stairs, though hovering over the steps  _ because that’s a thing she could do _ . “Are you sure you couldn’t hear his heartbeat? Maybe you forgot?”

“I wouldn’t forget his heartbeat, or any of yours,” said Kon, coming in last. He was looking around the large expanse of the lair, probably with his X-ray vision. “I was tried listening in for it but it just… wasn’t there.”

Oh. It dawned on Tim that, due to his size, his heartbeat would be extremely different now, probably. The specifics of this whole thing were a bit beyond him.

Cassie was rubbing Conner’s back. They all seemed distraught, even Impulse, who usually unflappably chipper, had a nervous air around him.

He really should call them more often.

He had tried this already twice, but as everyone said, third time’s the charm. He cupped his hands on each side of his face and yelled, “Superboy! Superboy! Help!” For some reason he felt like his voice had caught on something, his chest tightening. 

He wasn’t going to let this get to him, he had been through worse. The league of assassins, the death of his loved ones, a damn earthquake. “Superboy!” This was nothing compared to all that. He’d been short all his life, what difference did a few feet make, really? “Kon!” And, yknow, so what if they missed him? He could get hold of them later. He had the laptop plan, he could, he could… “Please… Please, see me.”

He’d been about to give up when, there, in Kons face, a sliver of recognition. His eyes were flitting around the room in high alert. He’d heard him! Or, we’ll, he’d heard  _ something, _ probably.

Tim flailed his arms over his head wildly. “Here! Over here!”

“Tim?” He said, his eyes wide as dinner plates.

“What? What is it?” Cassie said, looking around..

“What do you see with your elven eyes?” Bart asked.

But Kon wasn’t paying attention to them, he was actually floating straight towards Tim.

“Oh, thank god, I was really starting to freak out for a moment there,” Tim said, honestly relieved. He’d almost begun to think that not only he’d become pocket sized but also invisible.

There was a true look of wonder in Kon’s face, but it broke off after a second, when he snorted and hid his face behind his hand, shaking with laughter.

“What, what is it?” Tim asked.

Bart had caught up with Kon in no time and now he too was laughing.

“This isn’t funny guys,” he glared at Cassie who also seemed on the edge of breaking down, her poor efforts showing through her eyes brimming with tears and her red cheeks.

“I’m, I’m sorry Tim, it’s just…” she couldn’t continue her sentence, laughter threatening to spill from her next words.

“Dude, you sound like you eat helium for breakfast!” Bart said, as they managed to hold back their laughter.

“W-What?”

They broke down laughing again, holding onto each other for support.

“This isn’t funny.”

“Is that your Batman voice? Is that your tiny widdle Batman voice?” Kon said between bouts of laughter.

“I can’t! I literally can’t!” Cassie cried.

“Guys, come on, this is serious,” Tim said, trying to maintain his composure and dignity, but judging by the burning in his cheeks he was failing incredibly at it. There was a flash of light that blinded him for a second, “What the- hey! No pictures!”

Bart grinned, hiding his phone behind his back.

“I swear if that photo leaves this group,” Tim threatened, but he already knew it was useless.

Cassie patted him on the head, “There, there.”

“I’m four inches tall not four years old,” he said, grumpily pushing the hand away.

Another weird distorted voice called from a floor above, though he already knew this one “Tim?” 

“Uh-oh,” said Bart guiltily. “The feds are here.”

“Great, make it a real party.”

“What are you lot doing here?” Dick asked. He was wearing the Batman uniform, and Robin was sulkily trailing behind him like a baby duckling. “And where’s Tim?”

“Who’s asking? Batman?” Cassie said, getting defensive. The three of them formed a wall between him and the other bats, so he couldn’t really see Dicks expression, even though he’d pay millions for it right now.

“His  _ brother _ is asking.”

“It’s alright guys,” Tim said.

Kon looked back at him uncertainly, “Sure?”

“Yeah, I need to talk to him anyways.”

“It’s your funeral dude.” 

His friends stood aside and Dick looked a mix between confused and pissed off, which quickly morphed to just confused and  _ then _ to just pissed off.

“What did you guys do to him?” Dick asked, with what Tim guessed was his Batman voice, though slowed down a little. Dick skulked forward and sunk onto his haunches, getting to Tim’s eye level, and wasn’t that an odd sight. He could see Dicks black spots from this vantage point. Perfect skin, his ass.

“Hey! We didn’t  _ do _ anything, we found him like this. In  _ your _ city, under  _ your _ watch, we might add.” Cassie said, crossing her arms.

From somewhere behind Dick Damian snorted, “Finally your size reflects your relevance I see.”

“Hey! Watch it, Bat Brat.” Kon said, getting on Damian’s face.

“You guys were literally just making fun of me.”

“Yes, but we can do it because we’re your friends and we love you,” Bart said lightly, though he was frowning.

“Alright, alright,” Tim said, holding his hands out, seeing how Dicks mood was going down south, “let’s not wreck my home unnecessarily.”

Dick glared at Superboy for a few moments until he backed off of Robins space and finally turned his attention back to Tim. “What happened, kiddo? One moment you’re calling for help and the next you’re nowhere to be found and now you’re...” he gestured, lost for words, “whatever  _ this _ is.”

Tim sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I had a wild night. It’s kind of a long story.” Tim sat on the mouse and told them what had happened with Richard Hemming.

“This isn’t complicated at all,” Bart remarked, “some guy shot you with a shrink ray,” he made finger guns with his hands then zipped a few inches to the side and pretended to be cowering in fear, “and then you became anthropomorphic Stuart Little.”

“I think it’s more of a Ratatouille role reversal,” Kon commented.

“I think you guys are missing the part where he was using the ‘ray gun’ to shrink people to add them to his fucked up collection,” Tim corrected patiently.

“How do you all ever get anything done,” Damian said under his breath.

“With a lot of effort and positivity,” Cassie grimaced.

“I’ll get Babs to spy on this guy, see what’s he’s doing,” Dick said, then squirmed in place. He had taken his cowl off and was now doing the thing with his face where he was feeling guilty about something and was about to burst. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you back there, I just didn’t think…”

“Didn’t think to look down, it’s alright,” Tim slumped, “still, what if I had left a clue? You need to keep on top of your game, Batman.”

“I know, I just… since Bruce came back I kind of was able to unclench a little. I guess I just went a bit overboard.”

“Right, I get it. Me too. He really lifted a weight off our shoulders, huh?”

Dick rested his chin on the back of his hands, smiling at Tim, then he grimaced, “It feels so weird to talk to you like this.”

“Yes, please get me back to normal, I’m dying here.”

“Right, of course, he said, getting to his feet. His eyes landed on Damian, who had walked off as soon as Tim had begun his explanation, obviously losing interest in the topic. He had now returned back to the group, his hands cupped close to his chest.

“What do you got there, Dames?”

“Drake, there was a rodent tangled on your bike wheel. That is extremely unsafe, why I—” he didn’t get to finish his sentence as he got suddenly surrounded by Bart.

“Is that him? Is that him? Let me see, let me see, let me see!”

“Drake, control your beast!”

Kon held Bart by the scruff of his neck and he flailed uselessly in the air with protests of “Hey, let me go!” Kon ignored him in favor of arching an eyebrow at Damian.

Damian pouted, then slowly opened his hands, revealing the rat he was holding, it’s whiskers twitching as it sniffed around warily.

“D’awww…” Bart said at the same time Cassie said “Ewww…” while edging away.

“But Cassie, look at it! It’s so cute! Coochie coochie,” he cooed, wiggling a finger in front of it and retrieved it before the rat snapped at him.

“That thing’s got rabies,” said Cassie making a face.

“It’s just hungry,” Bart said to Cassie, then to the rat he said, “right girl? You want snacky snacks? You want baby carrots? A cheeseboard? Slice of old pizza I found? Tim you gotta clean your fridge by the way.” Bart said, zipping in and out with each offer without giving the rat enough time to consider its options.

“How’d you know it’s a girl?” Kon asked.

“Well, I mean, in human terms, she is. I quickly checked, I can show you,” Bart said wide eyed, munching on baby carrots.

“Nope, no. I see enough animal junk at the farm as it is, I’ll just take your word for it.”

“Hello?” Tim said, “I feel like we’re getting off track here. Or is a rat somehow more interesting than fixing my  _ little problem _ ?”

“Oh,” Bart said guiltily, taking a baby carrot out of his mouth, “sorry, did you want some?”

Tim turned his entire body away, repelled by the extremely detailed view. “No, thank you Bart.” Cassie was shrugging her shoulders as if to say ‘what’re you gonna do about it?’. He sighed and looked for his other brother, “Dick—“

“I already texted Babs. She’s upset because she can’t access your computer.”

“I didn’t lock her out this time, I’m just doing a system backup to the cave and it’s taking all the processing power.”

“I’m gonna tell her you’re sorry anyways.”

“Uh, right.”

Tim watched the loading bar slowly crawl forward. It had almost finished but somehow he felt like it was mocking him. 

“Tim,” Dick said softly behind him, though to him it sounded extremely gruff still.

“Mmm?”

“Are we going to tell Bruce about this?”

Tim pretended to think about it for a moment, “No, it’s fine.”

“He could help us. We’re really just going by the cuff here.”

“I thought that’s what you were good at?” He asked, glancing up at his brother.

“Not when one of my brothers lives is involved.”

“Past history notwithstanding,” Tim murmured.

Dick groaned, “Really? You wanna do this now? With your squeaky voice?”

Tim raised his hands, “No, no. I’m sorry. It just slipped out, I didn’t mean it. I just had a long day, I’m not thinking straight.”

Dick sighed and to Tim that felt like a warm, strangely minty gust of wind. “Right, yeah, okay, sorry. But still, Batman.”

Tim crossed his arms. “I just, I’m handling it okay.”

“Oh my god,” Dick said and Tim could just somehow tell he was grinning like the devil right now. “Oh my god, Timmers, are you embarrassed that Bruce might see you like this?”

He hid his flushed head further between his shoulders, turning away as Dick tried to get a look at him. “No!” He said unconvincingly.

Dick was laughing now, “Awww, Tim!”

“See, now there goes your respect for me. First my team, now my brother. At least the demon brat never respected me, nothing to lose there.”

“I don’t think of you less just because you’re… vertically impaired at the moment,” Dick said, failing to be reassuring with the laugh tickling his voice.

“Yeah, laugh it up,” Tim shook his head, but he too was grinning. “Anyways, that really isn’t it. It’s just…” he sighed. “After someone you rely on is gone for so long, that sort of dependency reflex just goes away in a way. It’s just hard to sort of, get that back I suppose.”

“Oh.” Dick said, sobering up, “Tim, do you—”

“Hey, Tim!” Kon called, and both Tim and Dick looked at him. He was dangling Tim’s phone as it vibrated. He set it down next to Tim, “It’s been going off, some sort of alarm.”

Tim glanced at the screen and groaned.

“What is it?” Dick asked, leaning in towards the phone to get a look at it.

“It’s my medicine reminder.”

“Oh, damn. Want me to go get it for you?” Kon offered, already hovering in the air.

“No, no. Don’t bother.” Tim sighed, “This’ll be a problem.”

“What’s going on?” Cassie asked, approaching the table.

“Tim has to take his medicine.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Well,” Tim began, “I can’t just take my regular dose of medicine with this size. One, it would be a lot, and two, I might definitely overdose.” All three of them grimaced. “Yeah, and I took a very long trip through the sewers, I was wearing the rebreather though, so it’ll probably be fine,” he shrugged, “I’ll just have to risk it.”

After bathing in the weight of that statement for a few moments, the tension was broken by the sound of the computer beeping with an incoming transmission.


	4. Shooting for the Stars

“Red Robin,” the disembodied voice of Barbara came through the speakers. 

“Oracle,” he responded automatically, before remembering the fiasco with the phone earlier. The mics probably wouldn’t be able to pick up his voice. “One of you is going to have to speak for me,” he said, tired. He really needed all this to end, being so dependent on others felt… wrong.

“Can do,” Cassie said. “Red Robin is here, Wonder Girl is speaking.”

“Good. Well, I looked up this Richard guy.”

“What can you tell us?” Dick asked.

“Pretty normal guy overall. Has a degree in architecture and another in art history. Graduated in Gotham University. Inherited the H&H company from his father. No next of kin, no lovers, no friends really, the man is a recluse.”

“He seemed eager to become friends with me at the auction,” Tim said and waited for Cassie to relay that info.

“Then you might have been his first friend, who knows. The only person who seemed actually close to him was his sister.”

“The girl in the photo.”

“Who’s that?” Kon asked.

“He had a photo of him with some girl back at his office, I assume it’s his sister.” 

“Yes, she used to work at Star Labs. Not anymore though, died a few months ago, though. She was sick.”

“Right, but now we know how he got his hands on this kind of tech,” Dick said. “He somehow got it from his sister.”

“That is my guess, yes,” Barbara confirmed.

“Any leads about his location?” Tim asked.

“Sorry, I tried tracking his movements after he fled from your fight, but I lost him around here,” a window opened showing a map with a dot a few blocks away from the demolition site. “I can’t say he’s gone home either.”

“He wouldn’t, I saw his face so he’s probably gone into hiding. He knows we’re aware of what he’s doing.” Tim sighed, “This is my fault, I shouldn’t have jumped in without thinking.”

“And let him just zap a bunch of people and then walk away?” Kon asked defensively, “You did what you thought was right at the moment.”

“Yes,” Tim agreed, flustered. “But if I hadn’t we could have led him into a false sense of security and caught him when he wasn’t armed.”

There was a pause, then Oracle chimed back in, ignoring the fact that she had missed half of that conversation as Cassie had kept silent. “Anyways, there’s no use worrying about that, what’s the plan now?”

Tim paced for a moment, then held his chin with his hand. “I don’t have a plan but I have a few ideas.”

“We’re listening,” Dick said, glancing at Damian who had finally decided to join them, still holding onto the rat while glaring at Bart who was sticking his tongue out.

“The man is a collectionist, he’s obsessed with his model cities, I doubt that he’ll simply abandon them and hit the road. He’s going to be coming back for them, or at least someone will. Either way, he’s taking them with him, undoubtedly.”

“So we keep an eye on his stuff, got it.”

“Still, we don’t know how long he’ll wait to move them, and if my theory is right…”

“You think the people might still be in there?” Said Dick, following his train of thought. Tim nodded.

“What? Then what are we waiting for let’s go get them!”

“Bart, wait!” Tim said, and was honestly surprised he had waited. “It’s too much of a risk, if we move anything he might notice and be alerted that we’re onto him. We can’t risk that again, he might go to ground for good.”

“And take his shrinking gun with him,” Kon said, darkly.

“Yeah, and then we won’t be able to help these people at all. But we  _ will _ help them,” Tim assured his friends. “Bart, I need you to gather some supplies, if there’s people there they’re going to be hungry. But make sure it’s stuff someone like me can eat.”

“Roger!” Bart saluted then disappeared, he reappeared a second later, “Wait. When you said that did you mean I should prepare for allergies or just size wise? Nevermind, I’ll just cover my bases,” he left again without waiting for an answer.

“Dick, Barbara will keep an eye on the company, but I need you to check something else for me. I’d do it myself but using a keyboard right now is…”

Dick shook his head, “It’s alright, tell me.”

“Hemming won something at last night's auction. A model set. It hasn’t yet been delivered, but he might have changed the address to be able to receive it if he’s not planning to go to his house. If you find it, follow it. We might be able to track him faster that way.”

“Got it.”

He turned to Cassie and Kon, “I’m going to need one of you to go with them, we don’t want a repeat of what happened to me if they get spotted.”

“I’ll come,” Cassie said, holding her arms up, her arm bands shining in the light. “Maybe I can deflect it.”

Tim nodded, “Kon, I’m going to need you to take me to Hemmings office.”

“What? But I thought you said—”

“Yes, but we need to get help to these people, at least so they know help is coming,” he knew first hand how the despair got to you quickly, and these people had been trapped like this for longer than he’d been. “I can help them, I can probably go in the buildings and make sure if there’s anyone there at all. But I can’t go by myself.”

“Right, got it,” Kon held out his hand, palm up and Tim climbed on it. He suddenly remembered something.

“Damian,” he said, turning to the boy.

Damian frowned, instantly suspicious at being singled out so suddenly. “What?” He snapped.

“Come here, I don’t want to yell.”

Damian took a step forward but didn’t get too close. He was obviously keeping an eye on Conner.

“I need you to do me a favor.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Alright, forget the favor. It’s about the rat.” Damian edged his hands away at the mention of it.

“What about it?”

“She helped me out a lot back there, I promised to feed her well but I haven't been able to. Can you keep an eye on her while I’m gone?”

Damian thought about it for a moment, then gave a diminutive nod.

“There’s another thing.”

“What is it?”

“I left Croc passed out in the sewers, someone should go get him. Can you do that?”

Damian narrowed his eyes and turned to look at Dick, who smiled encouragingly. He turned back to Tim, “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

“Whatever,” he said before skulking off in the direction of the kitchen.

“Awwww, Timmy…” Dick said, which immediately made Tim blush even though he was trying his best to keep a straight face. “You care about him…”

“I don’t. ‘Divide and conquer’, it’s a popular tactic, I’m just trying to delegate.”

Dicks grin meant that he didn’t believe him for one second, “You don’t want to put him in harm's way so you gave him a task to keep him occupied… d’aww. I could hug you.”

“You can’t, actually,” Tim countered.

“So, let me get this straight. You don’t want him in harm's way so you sent him to the sewers to search for a Crocodile monster, is that what happened?” Cassie said confused. “You bats have a weird way to show care.”

“I don’t see how this guy could be such a big threat though,” Kon said, “I mean, worst that could happen is he gets zapped by a shrink beam, right? We can just fix him up after we get the gun.”

Tim turned away to hide his face but Cassie had caught it. “What? What is it?”

Oracle, who was still connected to Tim’s computer answered her question, “There is no guarantee that we might actually be able to reverse this, realistically speaking.”

“What?!” Both Cassie and Kon said. Dick on the other hand just grimaced, he probably had thought about it too.

“Best we can do is work backwards from whatever it is the gun did, but nothing is for certain. I’ll try to look for experiment records from Star Labs but…”

“So, you’re saying there’s a possibility Tim might be stuck like this forever?”

“That… is exactly right,” she said carefully.

“Guys, guys,” Tim said, trying to calm his friends, “we can worry about that later, but I will definitely be stuck like this if we don’t try, so let’s focus on the now, alright?”

They seemed unconvinced but nodded their heads, worry still etched in their faces.

“Hey, I’m back!” Bart zipped back in, wearing a kimono on top of his costume, “I went to a guy who makes all sorts of tiny food in tiny little pans. Look at these, they’re adorable,” he said, taking out a tiny hamburger out of a paper bag. “I also got those little hand towel things you get on planes,” he said, then he looked at everyone in the room. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing,” Tim said. “Give these to Kon,” he instructed and Bart did so, “and stay here.”

“What! I don’t wanna! That sounds boring!” Bart whined.

“Bart, Bart,” Tim said, trying to recapture his attention, “listen. Kon and I are going to go to Hemmings building. My communicator is busted and Kon doesn’t have one. We’re going to be completely out of the loop. I need you to stay here and give us any message Babs might have, got it?”

“Ughhhhhh,” Bart vibrated, “ok.”

“Alright, you’ve all got your missions, now... break!” He clapped his hands.

Kon snorted but everyone began to prepare to do their respective missions. 

Dick smiled down at him and said “You’re a very good tactician, I can see why you were the leader.”

“Actually, Cassie was the leader,” Kon said.

“Damn right,” Cassie said, already by the stairs, “now move your butt, Mr Boy Wonder.”

Dick grinned then waved at Tim, “We’ll see you later, hopefully we catch this guy.”

“Yeah.”

Kon held him up higher as he began hovering out, the bag of food in his other hand. “Things seem good between the two of you now.”

“They do seem that way.”

“Still haven’t talked about it?”

“There’s always something else getting in the way,” Tim gestured at himself, “plus, I’m not sure I want to hear him excuse himself, even if he had valid reasons to do what he did.” He sat in Conners palm, holding onto his thumb. “I’m not the best at talking about stuff anyways, it’s easier to just bury the hatchet and be done with it.”

“Family’s though man, I get it.”

“Thanks, Kon.” They we’re almost out of the service tunnel, and there wouldn’t be much of a chance to talk again for a while so he took a breath and looked up at his friend. “I’m sorry I didn’t call more often.”

Kon grimaced, “It’s alright. Actually, Cassie and I were talking and were sorry for making it a scheduled thing. We realized that uh, it sort of made it into a chore and that would just make it harder on you…”

“I… hadn’t thought about it that way.”

“Yeah, neither did we. It was actually Bart who made us realize it. We don’t want to force you to hang out or anything.”

“No, I… I do want to hang out. It’s fine. I’m sorry. I’ve just sort of, lost my footing, since everything. I still have trouble getting through… the little things,” he chuckled.

“Yeah. And,” Kon looked at him seriously, his eyes a deep, dark blue, “we  _ will _ fix this, alright? You won’t be stuck like this forever.”

“I hope so.”

“Even if it’s really funny to hear you do your squeaky Batman voice,” he joked and this time Tim laughed at it.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Kon lowered his hands and let Tim slip into his jean pocket. “Now hold tight, I’m gonna go pretty fast.

Tim ducked his head inside the pocket and bumped into Conner’s keys. One of them, he recognized, was the Theater’s key, which Tim had given to each of the three after he had bought the place. It was a sign of trust, and he still stuck by it.


	5. Standing on the Shoulders of Giants

When they reached H&H, Tim slipped out of Kons pocket to pick the lock of the roof access. It was the first thing that had gotten easier since he’d been shrunken, since he could stick his entire arm through the keyhole.

Once inside he directed Conner to Hemmings office and Kon gave a long low whistle. “You weren’t kidding, there’s tons of ‘em,” he commented, floating past the rows of glass cases. “How do you reckon we find which ones are the ones with people? We’re not gonna check all of them, right?”

Tim, who was sitting on Conners shoulder rolled his eyes, “That would take forever. No, I was thinking you could use your x-ray vision to detect any movement.”

“Oh, duh. Of course I can do that.” 

Conner settled himself in the center of the room and started turning around in a slow circle. His brow was furrowed, deep in concentration.

“I see something.” He went to the one closest to the desk and looked closer. “There seems to be people huddled on the first floor of that one,” he pointed to a dilapidated building. “There’s lots of them,” he said in disbelief.

“We’ll help them,” he reassured his friend, trying not to think about how close he’d been to these people before. He hoped they hadn’t seen him the first time. To be so close to hope and then have that be taken away, he didn’t wish that on them. “Can you take out the screws holding the glass with your TK?”

“Can do.” Conner placed a hand against the surface of the glass and the screws started to float. He lifted his hand and the entire glass case came up with it. He made a bridge with his other arm for Tim to climb out of.

Once on the base of the model he signaled Kon to hand over some of the food they had brought. Tim took a few of what looked to be sandwiches and walked towards the building. There was no need to knock as the door was open.

“Hello? Is anybody in here?” He rapped his knuckles on the door frame. “Hello?”

There was the sound of a gun cocking. “Hands up where I can see ‘em!”

Surprised, Tim did what he was told, though he still held the sandwiches close to his chest. He couldn’t see whoever was threatening him with how dark the inside of the building was, but there was the definitive glint of a gun.

“Both hands! Put that down!”

“Alright, I’m putting it down,” he said calmly.

The man stepped out of the shadows and Tim saw it was a police officer. 

“Figures it’s one a you costumed freaks,” he spat.

“Officer, there is no need—”

“Shut up!” The man screamed, spit flying everywhere. “Shut the fuck up! I give the orders here you hear me?” He glanced down at the food and glared at Tim. “Where you get this?” Tim didn’t reply, though the guy wasn’t probably asking for real. 

This wasn’t a good situation. The man was clearly aggressive, hard to tell if the situation had gotten to him or if he’d been like this before. Still, it was worrying for the rest of the people in the building.

“Think you can come here, steal our food,” he kicked the food and ground it under his foot, “and waltz around like it’s nothing? It’s survival of the strongest out here.” He got up on Tim’s face but Tim didn’t even blink. “Buddy you don’t got no idea what we been through.”

“Sir, I’m—Honest, I’m just trying to help, there’s no need for—”

“Did I say you could talk?” Tim clacked his mouth shut, not wanting to anger the guy any further. “You see what’s out there, guy?” He said, gesturing at the door, “That there is fucking glass. Air’s precious down here, we don’t need to waste any of it on your fucking kum ba yah.”

Tim thought the man rather talked a lot for someone who pretended to be concerned about the amount of O2 but he kept his thoughts to himself.

“First is the air, next you'll ask for a little bit more food.” He pressed the gun against Tim’s temple. “Funny thing is, I have a pretty good solution for both these problems, you copy? I make the rules here.”

“I copy,” Tim said, holding the man’s gaze. He saw the intent in his eyes and sprang into action before he could shoot. 

He grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back making him drop the gun. Tim kicked it away then drove his elbow to the back of his head. The man fell unconscious to the ground.

Easy peasy. He was no giant Killer Croc for sure. He zip tied the man and dusted his hands after he finished. He recovered the gun, emptied it, and holstered it on the back of his belt under his cape. 

Suddenly he felt like he was being watched. He looked up and further into the building a head was peering out of a doorway.

“Is he dead?” 

Tim looked at the officer, who was drooling onto the floor.

“He’s unconscious, he can’t hurt anyone anymore.”

The person seemed hesitant before walking out of the room. She inched towards him warily and Tim noticed two kids hiding behind her skirt.

“He’s a despicable little man,” she said, holding her skirt tightly. She then looked up at Tim as if she was seeing him for the first time. “You’re one of those, the bat guys.”

“Yes, we’ve come to help you.”

The woman put a hand over her mouth and her eyes filled with tears. Before he knew it he was being wrapped in an embrace. “Oh thank god, thank goodness.”

Tim didn’t know what to do with his arms but he smiled at the kids who were gaping at him like he was some sort of… hero. He hadn’t received that look in a long time.

From the door at the back more people were beginning to come out, happily hugging each other and rejoicing over the rescue while giving the unconscious cop a wide berth. 

“Alright,” Tim said, once he’d been released, “come with me, Superboy is waiting outside.”

He led everyone out of the building and all the kids in the group exclaimed with amazement. “Woah!” “He’s huuuuge!” “It’s Superman!”

Conner lowered himself so he wasn’t towering over the people and smiled softly, “It’s Superboy actually, way cooler.”

“I have your poster, Superboy!” One of the kids exclaimed.

While Conner entertained the kids, Tim led all the adults towards the pile of supplies. “We didn’t know in what state we might have found you so we brought what we thought was best,” he said. “Well work out a way to get you all out of here as soon as possible.”

The woman from before raised her hand shyly, Tim gestures at her to go ahead. “Will we be able to return to normal?” Tim’s smile froze. “It’s-It’s not that we’re not thankful for all of this, just, well,” she gestured at him, “you must understand…”

“How hard it is? I do. I promise you we are working on it.”

“Thank you.”

He left the adults to sort out through the supplies, trusting they had it handled and went back to the building, pleased to find the cop was coming to. He started struggling against his bonds as he saw Tim approach.

“Stay back! I said stay back!” He ordered, crawling backwards, “I can’t defend myself, if you do anything to me—“

Tim kicked him in the face. He kneeled in front of the guy and lifted his head by the hair. “You’re a real piece of shit, aren’t you?” He said, his voice low almost in a whisper. “You didn’t care when  _ they _ were defenseless against you, were you? Why should I extend that kindness to you?”

“I brought order,” the man spluttered, “guidance. Without me these people would have been lost, they woulda starved in a week.”

Tim pulled his hair harder, satisfied when the man let out a yelp. “There’s  _ children _ here, and you were treating them like animals,” Tim hissed. “I can’t say for certain they aren’t already starving, and who’s fault is that?”

“What’re you judging  _ me _ for? You weren’t even here, you don’t know the first thing what we gone through.” The spat some blood on the ground, “Putting all the blame on a victim, ‘stead of being out there punishing whoever did this.”

“You’re right about one thing, I should be out there helping those people. But there are no victims in this room.” He decked the man, making him fall unconscious again.

He dragged him out of the building towards Conner and noticed the people had gathered in a circle and were passing around food, making sure the kids got their share first.

“What happened to this one?” Conner asked when he’d gotten close.

“I happened to him.”

“Oh, this is the guy?”

“You heard?” Tim asked, relieved that Conner lifted both him and the man up.

“The kids were telling me about some guy who was kind of an asshole. Guys like this are like pests.”

“Tell me about it.” He looked down at the people, merrily eating their food, all the stress from before gone off their shoulders.

“They found him! They found him!” Bart said, coming out of nowhere in a gust of wind. “Woah! Cool!” Bart exclaimed, pressing his face to the closest glass case.

“They found him?” Conner asked, trying to get Bart back on track.

“Who? Oh, right! They totally found him! I think Batman made him cry, he was super fucked up,” Bart reported. “They got the gun also, they sent me to come get you so here I am!” He blinked in and out and suddenly he was wearing a mailman hat. He licked a stamp and pasted it on Tim’s cape, “All set!”

Conner handed Tim over to Bart and held the unconscious cop up, “What I do with these people?”

“There’s no need to be cautious anymore, we can take the whole model,” Tim said, trying to scratch the stamp off his cape but it was just shy out of his reach. 

“Right-o.”

“Just make sure to cover the case, I don’t want them to see the Nest. I’ll leave that to you.” He turned to Bart, “Dont drop me.”

“We make our deliveries with professionalism, sir!” He saluted, forgetting he was using that hand to hold Tim. He flumbled for a second before catching him in midair. “Whoops!”

Tim was holding onto Barts fingers, blinking furiously. He gave a look at Kon, “I’m not so sure about thiiiiiii—!” Bart had begun to run, covering Tim with his other hand, probably to prevent him from falling off again.

Mere moments later they were back at the Nest and Bart revealed him, holding him up over his head. “Delivery!”

“Oh, I’m going to be sick,” Tim said with a hand over his mouth. Thankfully the feeling quickly passed.

“Bart!” Cassie chided without any real heat, taking Tim from him and resting him on a table.

“Hehehehe,” Bart laughed innocently, “he’d fine, relax!”

She put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow.

“Gulp!” Bart went to hide behind Tim out of habit, crouching in front of the table with his head very obvious sticking out.

“There you are,” Dick said, coming from the direction of the main computer, where the line with Oracle was still open. He was holding the gun and the clunky machine it was attached to. “Everything good on your end?” He asked, setting the contraption on the table.

“Superboy is bringing the victims here. Did you learn anything about the gun from Star Labs?”

Dick nodded, “Oracle got the schematics, we were going through them when you came.

Oracle chimed in, “Yes, though I can’t say it makes complete sense to us. I’m better with software than hardware, if I’m being honest, so we’ll leave this to you.”

“I’ll look them over. I suppose it will make more sense now that we have the actual machine,” he said, looking at the huge box that had been strapped to Richard’s back before. 

The machine looked way clunkier up close, with all sorts of knobs and bobs sticking out. He didn’t doubt the guts were a right mess too, it seemed like a rush job to him. 

“And Hemming?” he asked looking up.

“In custody,” Dick reported, “Croc too. Damian is in the kitchen with your rat.”

Tim nodded. “Did he give you trouble? Bart told me he was a mess.”

Dick and Cassie exchanged a look. “Yeah, that’s a way to put it,” Dick said.

“Guy freaked on us actually,” Cassie said wide eyed, “one look at us and he broke down crying.”

“I mean, imagine you’re a startup villain and Batman and Wonder Girl come beat you up at the same time, I’d shit my pants,” Bart said, popping a tiny onigiri into his mouth. “Oh right, Conner’s back. Hey Conner!” He waved towards the back of the room where Kon was standing guard next to a tarp covered display case.

Kon waved back, confused.

“I see,” Tim said, ignoring the brief interruption. “And then he gave you the gun?”

“Pretty much,” Cassie shrugged.

“Right. Where is he now?”

“In custody,” Dick said, “he didn’t seem like he was going to make trouble, but we kept an eye on him all the way anyway.”

“Okay. Thank you. Well, I better get to work on this, then.”

“Will you need our help?” Dick asked.

Tim considered him for a moment, cleared his throat and said, “Uh, if you’re not busy, I could use an extra pair of hands I suppose.”

“Of course, Tim,” Dick said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“We’ll also help!” Bart said, hand raised.

With that, they got down to work, with Tim going over the blueprints and research notes with Barbara and directing them on how to handle his tools to disassemble the machine. At one point he went in himself to do some rewiring.

Most of the changes went to the big box attached to the gun, as the gun itself simply directed the energy. The make was based on a study by Ray Palmer (prior to his stint as The Atom), with a touch of Professor Hemming’s own take on the subject of matter compression. This was a good thing, since Bruce had a lot of notes about Palmer’s old belt, which they were able to use to revert the entire process.

Tim stepped out of the main fan in the machine and wiped his brow. He was dead on his feet, with how much he’d been going around, but now he believed he was done.

Dick was reading over some of the notes, double checking their work, while Cassie was taking the discarded pieces to the side, since technically they wouldn’t need the case for it to work. Bart had disappeared somewhere up in the Theater, saying something about food. Kon himself hadn’t moved from his place, keeping watch on the people in the shrunken building to be able to help in case they needed something.

Barbara, who'd been helping Tim with reading the schematics (due to being so small it would take a while to get through a single line), sighed and said, “I think this is it.”

“Yeah,” Tim agreed, though Barbara probably couldn’t hear him.

“It’s done?” Dick said, looking up from Tim’s laptop.

“This is as much as we can change. Now all that’s left is to test it.”

“Oh good,” Dick said, slumping backwards in his chair and closing the laptop with a soft click. “I’m going to be dreaming about star physics for the next few weeks,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh please,” Barbara said, “like you were any help in that area, all you did was hold tools and look pretty.”

“I made a valiant effort,” Dick pouted before his face broke into a grin, “thanks for saying I look pretty.”

“So what do we test it with?” Cassie asked, dusting her hands and looking equally relieved. “We could try it on one of Barts tiny foods,” she nodded her head towards where Damian was coming down the staircase with Bart trailing close behind. “Make them regularly sized boring food.”

“She will  _ not _ be having any more cheese,” Damian was telling Bart, who was dangling a string of cheese in front of the other boy. “Too much will be bad for her.”

“It’s a sewer rat, she can indulge in the decadent life of the upper class rats now, so why shouldn’t she?” Bart retorted, trying to get the rat from Damian’s cupped hands though he wasn’t really trying.

“No,” Tim said, “It must be an organic life form. We need to test how the process affects a living creature to see if it’s safe.”

With that statement Damian froze in his tracks, his expression becoming thunderous.

“You mean the rat?” Dick asked wide eyed.

“Is that why you made me care for it then, Drake? To keep her alive so you could use her as a test subject?” Damian asked, his shoulders hunched up and his voice trembling with ire. 

“No, Damian—” Tim tried, but Damian barreled on.

“Is this another one of your sick tests? Are you so resentful towards me that you will try to hurt me through this innocent creature? Well, I will not stand for it,” he declared before running back up the stairs.

“Damian!” Dick called, but Damian didn’t stop. It seemed like he wanted to go after him but was stopping himself.

Tim looked up at his brother and gestured to the stairs, “You should go after him.”

“But—”

“We’ll be fine, I wasn’t planning to use the rat, you can go tell him that. He won’t believe it coming from me.”

Dick looked unsure for a moment but eventually he nodded and ran after the youngest Robin.

“Your family is messed up, bro,” Conner said, having approached the group after he heard the commotion.

“What  _ were _ you planning to use if it wasn’t the rat?” Cassie asked.

“Me.”

He was immediately met with a cacophony of disapproval as his friends said different variations of “You can’t be serious!” and “Tim, no!” and “What the hell, dude?”

“What’s happening? What did he say?” Barbara asked, trying to keep up.

“This dumbass said he’s going to try it on himself!” Cassie said, pointing at him as if she could be talking about anyone else.

“Dumbass is kind of a strong word,” Tim defended weakly.

“Are you getting enough air down there?” Bart asked, “I think you’re a little confused.” He started fanning Tim with his hands, causing quite a strong wind.

“I’m fine, Bart,” Tim said, squinting his eyes at the sudden blast of air. “I thought this through, just hear me out!” he yelled.

Conner caught Barts wrists to stop his frantic fanning, “Then explain.”

“I said we needed to test this on a living creature but that’s not the only parameter we have to meet. We also need to test it on a creature that’s been shrunken before to be able to replicate the exact conditions we’ll be using the ray with. If two extreme molecular changes become too much for the body to go through… we need to know.”

Cassie repeated what Tim had said for Oracle, doing her best to keep the anger out of her voice. Other than that, the room had fallen into quiet.

“He’s right,” Barbara said after a moment.

“This sucks,” Bart said.

“I know, but it’s okay.”

“It’s really, really not.”

“What about the cop?” Conner said out of nowhere.

“What?” Tim said, “What about him?”

“He sucks. Have you heard the things he’s done to these people? Pretending he was their hero? Let  _ him _ do it,” Conner said, crossing his arms.

“Yes, he sucks, but in a ‘go to jail, do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars’ way. You’re not suggesting I make a  _ civilian _ do this?”

Conner’s shoulders fell, “I guess not. You’re right, nevermind.”

“So, you’re doing this? No matter what?” Cassie asked.

“Yeah. And, let me say this much first,” Tim cleared his voice, “I’m not afraid to do it. I’m not, because I know we all worked really hard on this  _ together _ .”

“Awww.” Bart said, wiping tears from his eyes. “You totally jinxed it but that was really nice, Tim.”

They all chuckled a little, sad smiles on their faces.

“Then, are you ready to do it? Should we wait for your brothers?”

Tim shook his head, “No, I might lose my edge. I’m ready to go now.”

“Alright,” Conner held up the gun, as the other two’s hands were too shaky at the moment, helping his aim with his tactile telekinesis. “If you die I’m going to be so pissed, dude.”

“Me too,” Tim said, and held his arms out, “now shoot me.”

Then everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vote now on your phones if you want me to kill Tim and then we can go straight to a sequel that’s basically a Danny Phantom au.


	6. Growing Pains

When Tim woke up, it was to a splitting headache and Dicks huge face looming over him.

“Gah!” He yelled, pushing himself backwards. Or, he would have, if he hadn’t already been laying prone.

“Oh, thank god you’re awake,” Dick sighed, finally retreating.

Tim sat up, massaging his temple. “What… What happened?” His throat felt raw and dry, his voice coming out gravely. 

“Weeeell….” Dick said, dragging out the word as he turned his head towards Tim’s friends who were also crowding at his feet, looking down at him.

“Sorry,” Conner said, rubbing his neck, “maybe we shouldn’t have done this while you were still standing on the table.”

“Yeah! You passed out and took a spill right off it when you stretched!” Bart said wide eyed, “Hit your head pretty hard.”

That explained the headache, and the large bump already growing on the back of his head. “And none of you thought about, I don’t know, catching me?”

“Sorry,” Cassie said. She held out her hand towards him and pulled him to his feet, “We were all sort of mesmerized by the way you just sort of…” She cupped her hands and then separated them exponentially, as if something was growing in them.

“Dude, are you like, taller now?” Kon said standing next to him. He put his hand flat on the top of Tim’s head then moved it towards himself. 

“Oh shit, you totally did!”

“Damn!” Bart exclaimed, “We were off by two inches!” He hoisted up the gun, “Maybe we should try again.”

“No!” everyone shouted.

“I’m joking, I’m joking!” Bart said, putting the gun down.

Tim sighed with relief, “How long was I out?”

“A few minutes,” Oracle said over the speakers, “though it could be less of an effect of the ray and more due to low sugar levels.”

“Yeah, you didn’t eat much the past few hours, maybe that’s why you fainted,” Dick supplied, handing Tim a few crackers.

“Oh, I sort of forgot, thank you.” He bit into a cracker and looked around the room. “Hey! We did it guys,” Tim said with raised eyebrows.

His friends took that as a green light to tackle him into a hug which he immediately returned.

“I will never ever let you forget this,” Cassie said into his hair.

“Dude, we have so much blackmail material now,” Conner laughed.

“Who needs enemies with friends like these,” Tim muttered when they finally let him go.

“Drake,” Damian said, and Tim noticed him for the first time, hiding slightly behind Dick. Tim remembered when he used to do that with Bruce at first, when he still wasn’t used to talking to the commissioner while in costume. It was oddly nostalgic.

“Damian.”

“Here,” he held out his hands and Tim put his underneath. Damian placed the rat gently onto Tim’s hands and backed away. “She likes to eat sunflower seeds,” Damian felt the need to say.

“Thank you for taking care of her,” Tim said, patting the head of the rat that had flattened itself in his palm. He wasn’t expecting the boy to apologize for the earlier misunderstanding and didn’t actually feel like he needed it, so instead he said “You know, I’ve never had a pet before, so maybe you can come check on her sometimes if you want.”

“Oh god, you’re keeping it?” Cassie asked scrunching up her nose.

“Y’know?” Tim shrugged, “She kinda grew on me.”

“Ohh, what are you calling her?” Bart asked, scratching her head.

“Judging by the way Tim names his stuff, it’ll probably be something dumb like Red Rat,” Conner said laughing.

“Hey! You  _ thirst  _ for my Redbird.”

“Cause it’s a dope ass car, you can’t fault me for that.”

“I’ll,” Damian chimed in and Tim turned to him, “I’ll come. To make sure you don’t get her killed.”

“Thanks for that vote of trust, Damian,” Tim said sarcastically.

Next to Damian Dick was smiling proudly at the youngest Robin. To him Tim said, “We can take care of it from here.”

“Oh, I mean,” Dick said, trying to formulate a reason to stay.

“I’m sure there’s other things you have to do out there, Batman.”

“Right.” Dick sighed, “Yeah, no, you’re right.” He ruffled Tim’s har softly, “I guess I’ll be seeing you around.”

“Yeah.”

With that, both Dick and Damian left the nest.

Barbara spoke up, “I’ll be heading out too.”

“Thanks for everything, O.”

“Don’t mention it,” she yawned. “I’ll help you with the other victims tomorrow, so no more work today. Let your body rest for a while.”

“Got it.”

“Oracle out.”

Tim turned to his friends. “You guys still here?”

“You heard what she said, we’re gonna make sure you get some sleep,” Cassie said. 

“Well, if you’re staying over you all know where the guest rooms are.”

“No way, we’re going to watch a boring movie and then pass out on your couch right on top of you.”

“I’ll start the popcorn!” Bart offered and zipped upstairs.

“I’ll go make sure he doesn’t finish it too,” Cassie said with a raised eyebrow.

“Alright,” he waved her off.

“You coming?” Kon said, making to follow.

“In a minute, I’ll just,” he pointed towards the covered case.

“Right. I’ll save you some popped corn.” Conner said, going on ahead.

Now alone in the Nest, Tim went towards the case. He lifted up the tarp and ducked in under it. He was immediately received by a man who seemed to be standing guard at the edge of the model.

“Oh!” The man exclaimed when he saw Tim and now he understood what his friends meant when they said he sounded like he'd swallowed helium.

“Hey,” Tim whispered, lowering himself to eye level. “Is everyone doing okay?”

“They’re resting,” he said, looking back to the building. “Everyone has been very tense these past days.”

“I bet.” He looked around, “Where’s the cop?”

The guy pointed towards one of the tall buildings on the other side of the model. “Your pal Superboy stranded him on a roof over there.”

Indeed there the cop was, on the roof of one of the tallest buildings. His hands were now untied but he was curled up and appeared to be asleep, using a hand towelette as a blanket.

“I trust you know how to get us back to normal?” The man said getting Tim’s attention.

“Yes. We still have to make sure there’s no secondary effects but we’ll know for sure after a few hours. Then we’ll get you all fixed up.”

“That’s good, that’s good,” the man nodded, then looked up at him for a long time, almost to the point of making him feel self conscious. “You bats are alright I suppose, even if you’re awfully young to be doing this sorta thing.”

Tim smiled, “I’m sorry it took me this long to find all of you.”

“What matters is that you did find us.”

“Yeah.”

A different man exited the building and was walking towards the two of them. “Ah, here comes my relief,” said the first man, stretching. 

“I will be going now too, for a while,” Tim said to both, “do you need anything?”

“We’re good, kid.”

“In any case, I’ll tell Superboy to keep an ear open.”

“Very well. Goodnight.”

Next, Tim went to his lab area and put the rat on a holed glass case. “This’ll have to do for now.” He scratched her head before heading for the lockers.

He needed to change very badly. He was sticky with sewer water in some places and his pants were covered in mud. He took a quick shower and dressed up with his most comfortable lounging clothes.

Once he was fresh, he bent over to gather the discarded pile of armor and that’s when he saw it. On the back of his cape, a giant stamp was still stuck to it. It said “POSTAGE - ONE PENNY”. Tim chuckled at it for a moment, before dropping the cape on top of the wash load.

Upstairs his friends had brought out all of his blankets and they were arguing about the movie they wanted to watch.

“Tim!” Bart said, noticing him first, “ Come tell  _ Conner _ that Home Alone is a classic and that we should watch it.

“I never said it’s not a classic,” Conner said, throwing Bart a piece of popcorn, which the speedster deftly caught in his mouth. “I  _ said _ it’s sacrilege to watch it when it’s not Christmas. You agree with me don’t you, Tim?”

Cassie, who took advantage of their distraction had already begun playing Agent Cody Banks, “Come on Tim, don’t just stand there.”

Tim smiled and joined his friends in the couch, settled in between Cassie and Conner. It was a tight fit but it felt just right. He didn’t manage to stay awake through the whole movie, as the relief from getting back to normal manifested itself with deep exhaustion.

The next day was spent going through the specifics of getting the other victims to their rightful size. 

It began with, as most things did, a full body scan. They wanted to make sure everything really was alright and that they hadn’t missed some kind of small threat to his system by mistake.

The scope of the tests had been so dramatically large that Cassie freaked out when Tim sneezed but once. Even if he tried to explain to her that the Nest was a bit dusty and that missing his antibiotics one time wasn’t that big of a deal. 

When Barbara gave him the seal of approval, Tim and Cassie headed towards the Gotham Memorial, where Conner had been instructed to take the people. They needed to be prepared for anyone who might be in need of medical assistance.

The police had also been called, though the chances of that cop being actually processed were slim to none.

Bart, who looked comically small compared to the large contraption strapped to his back had been eager to start using the gun. Which is how Cassie got to find out that tiny foods that had been expanded retained almost none of the original flavor for some reason.

Overall, the process went off without a hitch. One by one the victims had their turn to return to normal, people were reunited with their families and, as per usual for the bats, Tim had left before anyone noticed.

Tim didn’t frequent interrogation rooms, in spite of what his night time activities entailed. It wasn’t a place they had access to as vigilantes working outside of the law in the first place. It was also one of the many places that managed to remind him of some kind of trauma. It had been a while since he’d gone to see Boomerang, but not long enough yet.

This time he wasn’t in an interrogation room to see Boomerang—though just like that time he had come as just himself—he was here for someone else entirely.

Richard Hemming looked absolutely miserable, with his hands cuffed to the table and his eyes low and tired. It was a shadow of the determined man Tim saw at the auction.

Tim thanked the officer keeping watch and went to sit in front of Hemming. The man didn’t acknowledge him but for a diminutive spasm in his hand.

“I’ll be honest, Mr. Hemming, I didn’t expect to see you again so soon, least of all like this.”

“Why are you here?” Hemming asked despondently.

“I was apparently one of the last people who saw you before you were apprehended, they wanted to ask me a few questions,” a tiny lie, but it wasn’t anything he’d have any reason to doubt. “I wondered if they’d let me see you, so.” Tim held up his palms.

“I didn’t think you billionaires had time to mock people’s misery, one by one, but I guess I was wrong,” Hemming said, glancing up at him. “But go ahead tell me, laugh.”

“I’ve not come here to laugh at you, Mr. Hemming,” Tim replied placidly, “I just want to understand.”

“What is there to understand?” The fight went out of his voice as soon as it had gotten there, and now he looked somehow more crestfallen than before. 

“How does a man, whose only passion is to collect small model cities, just end up like this?”

“They’re not  _ just _ models. Not to me. I—“ he opened his mouth to speak but noticed the guard standing nearby.

“You can tell me,” said Tim leaning slightly forward.

Hemming hesitated for a moment, “Back then. at the auction…” Tim wasn’t surprised by the change of subject but still listened intently. “I thought I saw it in you.”

“What did you see?”

“I thought… that you are someone who loves Gotham deeply. Out of all the lots being sold only two showed her the way she truly is. I got one, you the other.”

Tim remembered now, the painting was one and the miniature model had been another. The other pieces had been all over the place, trinkets and portraits and book collections.

“I thought it was impossible for someone this young to truly appreciate it. So I tried to confront you. I hadn’t known you were who you are. I have...” Hemming somehow managed to blush, “I have a lot of respect for Bruce Wayne. He’s done incredible things to rebuild this city.” 

If only he knew how far that kindness extends, Tim thought. “Then, I don’t understand. Why go and do this?”

Hemming put his head in his hands, “I couldn’t take it anymore. I love architecture, it’s my passion,” he said, lifting his head to peer into Tim’s eyes, as if he needed to show he was telling the truth with his entire being. “I was going to build my heart’s content!” he exclaimed, then simmered down as the guard cleared his throat. “But then, I inherited the demolition company.”

“What about your sister?”

He shook his head, “She was never an option, my parents were traditionalists in that way,” he said, not questioning Tim’s knowledge about his sister. “She was always on my side, that’s why she made the… but then she… I…” words began to fail him.

“Mr. Hemming…”

“I never meant to hurt any people!” he burst out. “I just wanted to preserve her, the city. I didn’t mean any harm!”

“Then why did you do it while knowing people still lived there? Why not go to the city, use the machine without needing to hide?”

“I… If I’d done that they would have taken her from me, I couldn’t…”

“You believed the city would be safer in your hands.”

Hemmings eyes widened, as if Tim had struck the bullseye. 

“Exactly.”

“Times up,” the guard grunted.

Tim got to his feet, and Hemming followed his movements, looking at him as if he had just sprouted wings. “Well, I guess this is it, Mr, Hemming. I’ll be—”

“Dick.”

“Excuse me?”

“My, uh,” he seemed embarrassed now. “My sister, she used to call me Dick. If you’d like—”

Tim’s expression became stony, making Hemming flinch. “I’m sorry, I believe there has been a misunderstanding,  _ Mr. Hemming _ .” The guard was becoming impatient, but Tim held up a hand to stop him. “I have no intention of becoming your friend. You hurt a lot of people because of your selfishness.The city isn’t yours, or mine, or Bruce Wayne’s. It belongs to the people you so easily let slip off you mind, the people who those buildings you love so much are supposed to serve.” He could feel the anger swelling inside him, but somehow he was able to maintain an approximation of calm in his voice. “Without that, all you are collecting is dirt and all you’re building with it is a fantasy.”

Hemming tried to speak, but was too shocked to get any words out.

“The saddest thing of all,” Tim said narrowing his eyes, “is that your sister worked her ass out to support you and you threw that away in a fit of greed. Now her life work is never going to see the light of day again.”

Tears were streaming down Hemmings cheeks now. He clamped a hand over his mouth, his mutterings of “Oh god,” barely making it through.

“You didn’t even remember,” Tim shook his head, making his way out. “I hope, for your own good, that you don’t forget.”

On Monday, everything was back to normal, or, as normal as being a teenage majority shareholder in a multi billion company could possibly be.

“Anything interesting happen on the weekend?” Tam asked as they walked to the garage so Tim could give her a ride home.

“I re-enacted the movie ‘Honey, I Shrunk The Kids’,” Tim said.

“Hey, if you don’t wanna tell me that’s fine. Keep your secrets,” she said, pulling out her phone.

Tim was going to tell her that ‘no, seriously, this did in fact happen’ but figured explaining the specifics would be too exhausting to get into.

“Hey,” she lifted up her phone, “Pizza and Cutthroat Kitchen tonight?”

“Ah, actually,” he began to say.

“I know we do this song and dance all the time but seriously, they’re just college students, they don’t bite.”

“No, I was going to say, my friends are quite honestly overstaying their welcome at my place, but... we’re working through all the seasons of Wendy so, do you want to join us?”

Tam stared at him for a moment, “When you say friends…”

“I mean my friends from _night_ _school_ ,” he said, seeing how they were still in the garage at Wayne Enterprises.

“Oh shit. Oh… I dunno…”

“Come on,” Tim grinned, tossing his keys in the air and catching them again, “they’re just world class superheroes, they don’t bite.” Tam punched his arm. “Ow!”

“Alright, I’ll come, but next time we go to my place,” she said getting in the car.

“Sure. Oh, also I should warn you, the only food I have right now is regular sized tasteless tiny food so prepare yourself for that.”

“I cannot even begin to parse the words coming out of your mouth right now.”

For all of Tams big talk, she became bashful when Tim presented her to his friends. She didn’t appreciate the ‘fake fiancé who I use for bearding’ being added to her official title, but after all the introductions were over with and they began playing the first Wendy episode of the night she finally started to relax.

“Tim, are you seriously on your phone right now? You’re missing the best scene, dude!” Conner said, as if he didn’t say that about every climactic scene in Wendy the Werewolf Stalker.

Tim got up from the tangle of blankets and limbs strewn about his couch, “Sorry, just gotta,” he motioned to his phone.

“Whatever. Bring more snacks!” 

Instead of heading for the kitchen, Tim went outside. It was a little windy so he remembered to cover himself with a cardigan. He was also thankful that a gentle breeze no longer swept him right off his feet. 

He climbed up the fire escape all the way to the roof.

“I got your text.” Batman said, appearing from the shadows.

“Hey,” Tim greeted. He noticed Robin standing not far behind, “Hey, I got a cage for the rat, but I’m not sure if—“

Damian walked past him and disappeared somewhere into the Theater.

“I think I’m getting the hang of it,” he told Dick.

“You’re a natural.”

“Learned from the best.”

“Aww, I’m not that good.”

“I meant Alfred,” Tim laughed.

Dick snorted.

“So, I’m here kiddo. What’s up?”

Tim motioned to the edge of the roof and sat there, his feet dangling off. He waited until Dick joined him to begin speaking, “It was a crazy weekend.”

“Easily in the top ten.”

“Thank you for helping out, again.”

“You know I always got your back,” Dick said, patting Tim on the shoulder.

“I don’t. Know that, I mean.” He had prepared himself for this conversation but now that the moment was here he felt like a fish out of water. “I mean I… I do. It’s just, everything is confusing right now.”

He managed to look up at Dick, but Dick was watching the city, lost somewhere in it’s skyline.

“You didn’t have my back that time, for a long time. You didn’t, you didn’t try looking for me. And I know why, I know you were busy and I know I was avoiding being found, too. But, I can’t help my mind going there.”

Dick finally glanced at Tim, his eyes looking saw and defeated. “I’m sorry,” he said simply. “There’s no excuse for what happened. I shouldn’t have—”

Tim stopped him before he could continue. “I don’t want us to be stuck in this loop any longer. So I’m… I guess I’m saying…” Tim wrung his hands nervously, “I’m willing to try again, if you want.”

“Brothers take two?” Dick asked, a tiny smile growing in his face.

“Yeah.”

“Of course I want to, Tim. As many times as you’ll let me, I’ll always be your brother.” 

Tim smiled and opened his arms, Dick didn’t waste a second, hugging his brother tightly.

When Damian returned apparently satisfied with the rats conditions, Tim bid his goodbyes and watched them grapple away, as they went to continue with their patrol.

As he stepped back into the living room Bart came up to him, holding two large packages. “This just came in! I signed it for you.”

“Oh, they’re here,” Tim said, taking the packages.

“What is it?” Cassie asked, looking up from the TV.

Instead of telling them, Tim took off the paper covering two large frames. He had prepared a pair of hooks on the wall especially for these. He hung both of them and inspected his work.

“Woah! Is that…?” Bart gaped.

One of the frames held the giant postage stamp Bart had put on his cape before.

“That’s awesome,” Conner said after pausing the TV.

“Y’know, the painting is not half bad,” Tam commented.

Tim looked at the painting of Gotham’s sky. The blimps peacefully hovering over dark towering buildings spotted with lights. On the clouds the bat signal was reflected, telling a much bigger story than the one shown in the frame.

It had somehow grown on him overnight. 

He hoped, for his own good, that he would never forget this feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for going through this wacky journey with me. It was a fun idea to explore and I’m satisfied with the product, I hope you enjoyed it too!
> 
> I also want to confirm yes, the rat is named Redrat.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @red-board!


End file.
